


Once A Wildcat: A High School Musical Fanfic

by therealtomato



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: AO3 Tags - Freeform, Alternate Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, Crying, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, Flashbacks, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, High School Musical References, Jealousy, Kinda, M/M, Original Character(s), Plot, Singing, Slow Build, Troy cant take a hint, Troy is like 25 if thats any reference, also yes im doing the thing where you make the title a song, but only at the end, depending on who you like or dont like, hes still finding ways to make everything abt him, hopefully i tagged enough things, ill probably add more as i go, okay now real tags, this is post college, this whole fic was inspired by Unfinished Business by Nathan Sykes, ty kayla, what the hell do you even tag stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-11-06 21:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11045058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealtomato/pseuds/therealtomato
Summary: We find the Wildcats 6 years post-graduation & see them navigate their lives beyond High School.They discover that though their time at East High wasn't the only thing that wouldn't last forever, something unexpected might.





	1. Time In A Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost I have to give credit where its due and thank my two favorite people for helping this fic become more than just a fun idea, Meagan and Kayla. I probably wouldn't have even finished this if it wasn't for you guys, so thank you for forcing me to actually see something through for once hahshafjsksdj
> 
> Anyways, hopefully y'all enjoy this fic, I put a lot of time into it so if it sucks let me know so I can work harder. 
> 
> Also sorry if this chapter is boring, gotta get all the boring exposition out of the way in this and probably the next one too.
> 
> ALso I knOW the summary is so awful but I don't wanna give anything away! I'll keep working on it and the title as I go but pls understand I am only a string bean who has never done this before so bear with me
> 
> ENJOY

  
“ _Troy you are GOING to hurt yourself! You don't even know how to ride that thing!”_

 

_Gabriella was only half right – Troy **did** in fact know how to ride a skateboard, despite the fact the board had gotten more action from the multitude of times he'd almost eaten the pavement than from him actually riding, but he was definitely,_

 

_for sure,_

 

_going to hurt himself._

 

_But Troy would never admit that._

 

“ _C'mon G! I just – AGH – I'm trying to get my sea legs! We're gonna be flip twisting in no ti-.”_

 

_He punctuates his statement by loosing his footing and promptly falling on his ass, sending the skateboard hurtling into the garage with a thunderous bang. Gabriella immediately rushes over to Troy, who's laying on the driveway pretending to not be in pain because, pride and all that._

 

“ _Oh my god! What did I tell you? Did you hurt anything?”_

 

“ _Of course not,” Troy grits, pushing himself up, “what you just witnessed was a perfectly executed practice fall, a skill only pro skaters like myself have mastered.”_

 

_Gabriella rolls her eyes and stands, extending a hand to help Troy off the ground._

 

“ _Good to hear your big head is still intact.”_

 

_Troy takes Gabriella's hand pulls her to him as he stands and kisses her on the forehead, murmuring an 'I love you' and throwing an arm around her shoulders._

 

_The two of them slowly make their way to the front porch while Troy pretends he's not limping, grunting as he pivots on his right foot to take a seat in the wicker chairs. He gingerly rests his left foot on the ottoman in front of him and Gabriella sighs and sits next to his foot. She rolls up his jeans to find his ankle already swelling and turning a painful shade of purple. Troy huffs out a small laugh as he leans his head against the back of the chair, defeated._

 

_Gabriella shakes her head and smiles._

 

“ _When are you gonna start listening to me?”_

 

“ _Eventually...” Troy shrugs.“I mean I guess at some point I'm gonna have to, so.”_

 

“ _Are you going to get yourself hurt then too?”_

 

“ _Maybe! But hey on the bright side, now you have your very first patient to use your first aid training on.”_

 

_Gabriella laughs and stands to go inside._

 

“ _Well, nurse Montez is gong to grab you some ice, is there anything you wake up while I'm inside?”_

 

_Troy frowns and cocks his head to the side._

 

“ _What did you say?”_

 

“ _I said do you wake up anything?”_

 

## ♫ WAKE UP, WAKE UP ON A SATURDAY NIGHT, COULD BE NEW YORK, MAYBE HOLLYWOOD AND VINE **♫**

  
  


Troy wakes with a start, his back warm and face wet from the sunrise and his drool respectively, phone alarm blaring from the nightstand. He feels around aimlessly for his phone and manages to knock his wallet, two empty water bottles and a pack of gum off the table before remembering he put it in the bottom drawer so that he'd be forced to get out of bed to turn it off. Grumbling profanities, he half pulls himself out of bed to rummage through the drawer, grabbing his still singing phone and finally shutting it off. He tosses the phone haphazardly behind him on the bed and settles back on his pillow, enjoying the cozy sunshine peeking through the blinds.

 

The muffled sound of front doors slamming and kids leaving their apartments can be heard above and below, reminding Troy that he actually needs to get up at some point. He grunts and blinks lazily at the wall a few times before pushing himself up on his palms and inhaling, leaning back into a cobra until a chorus of pops roll down his spine. Satisfied, he exhales and slowly slides back down into the bed, arms stretched towards the headboard. Just as sleep is beginning to settle back into his bones, Troy's phone buzzes loudly against the mattress.

 

Groaning, he flips over to sit up and retrieve the device. He rakes a hand through his hair and thumbs through his notifications from the night before& snoozing his reminder to book his flight for Ryan's show, eventually coming to the most recent one – a text from Kelsi.

 

**7:07am Ms.PLAYmaker**

 

**Morning sunshine!**

 

**PLEASE tell me you remembered to call Nina's and order the new arrangements yesterday**

 

**I need you to pick them up on your way in, matthews is PISSED**

 

Just as Troy is about to respond, the three little dots appear in the lower left corner indicating that Kelsi is typing.

 

**7:15am Ms.Playmaker**

 

**Troy where tf are you???**

 

**and im STANDING in your unoccupied office so dont lie**

 

Troy sighs and gets up to go start brushing his teeth, he needed to tell her something that was at least half true. He's sticking the toothbrush in his mouth by the time he hits send.

 

**7:16am Troysain Bolton**

 

**Ok ok.. dont be mad.. im still at home**

 

**BUT**

 

**as SOON as im done brushing my teeth I will call Nina who you know loves me! and im sure I can work something out dont worry:)**

 

**7:18am Ms.PLAYmaker**

 

**TROY!!! WHAT THE HELL**

 

**you better HOPE Nina loves you bc right now I sure dont**

 

Troy grimaces at the message before spitting the minty froth from his mouth. He then quickly dials Nina's number before wedging his phone between his shoulder and cheek, turning the shower on as he does.

 

The line rings three times, during which he hurries over to his closet and pulls out a plain blue button down and a gray vest, along with a bright turquoise tie with tiny tropical fish all over it, Kelsi's favorite. He's poking through his dresser to find matching gray pants when Nina finally picks up.

 

“This is Nina's Garden where my seeds grow your floral needs, how can I help you today?”

 

Troy smiles at her tagline as he finds the pants he wants, throwing them on the bed with the rest of his clothes. Nina has been like a second mom to him ever since he moved down to Berkeley. They met when Troy rushed in one day in need of a last minute bouquet once he found out Gabriella was stopping by to see him before heading up to Stanford. Nina was charmed by the idea of the young man in love doing something sweet, so she gave him the bouquet free of charge. Her only request was that he come back and tell her if she liked the flowers. So a few weeks later Troy, wanting to repay her for her kindness, brought lunch and a well groveled for partnership application form from the community center. From then on the rest was, well, you know.

 

“Hey Nina its Troy, did you just start using that saying? I like it.”

 

Troy then runs back to the bathroom and puts the phone on speaker before shimmying out of his clothes and hopping in.

 

“Oh, thank you, Troy! Yeah, it just sorta came to me last week and – wait, is that the shower I hear? How late are you today, huh?”

 

“Pfft, what makes you think I'm late?” Troy jokes, pretending to be defensive.

 

“The sound of your blatant denial, mostly.” She retorts. Nina laughs when Troy scoffs at her statement.

 

“So what do you need, sweetheart? You and I both know you don't have time for witty banter right now.”

  
Troy sighs and rinses the lather from his hair. He knows Nina truly doesn't mind helping him out, but it doesn't make him feel any better about asking her for last minute favors so often.

 

“I need about... one-two-three... six dozen fresh flowers, any kind you have available is fine. The new janitor accidentally turned on the heat instead of the AC before they left last night, and all the flowers in the building are wilting. We have a really important sponsor visiting today, so Ms. Matthews really wants fresh ones.”

 

“SIX DOZEN? As in sixty, six-zero, flowers? How soon do you need them?”

 

Troy presses the home button on his phone to see the time as he towels off. It reads, “7:29am”.

 

“Shit! In, like, fifteen minutes.” He runs the towel over his head a few times before grabbing his phone and taking it into his room to get dressed.

 

“Fifteen-!” Nina makes a distressed noise before sighing. “What am I going to do with you, Troy?”

 

He quickly pulls his vest over his shoulders and drapes the tie around his neck before slipping on his socks and wingtips.

 

“I know, I know, I'm sorry. I really am, Nina.”

 

“Don't be sorry my love, just try to do better, okay? I'll see you soon.”

 

Troy lets the pang of guilt deservedly wash over him. Nina might as well have said she wasn't angry, just disappointed. He ends the call and stuffs his phone in his pocket, then begins throwing his stuff into his backpack. His phone then begins to ring in his pocket as he grabs his watch from the dresser. “7:35”.

 

“Fuck me.” He mutters before retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, once again putting it on speaker and placing it on the bathroom counter.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Yes I'd like to order a casket for a man who's about to be dead if he doesn't walk through these doors in the next 5 minutes with a buttload of flowers.”

 

Troy swears under his breath again and sprays hairspray directly into his brush before running it quickly through his hair several times to look decent. He then drops the brush on the counter and picks up his phone to turn off speaker, shoving it between his shoulder and cheek.

 

Hurrying out of his bedroom, he snatches his keys from the kitchen table and runs out the front door, locking it before hustling down the stairs.

 

“Kelsi I swear to you, I will be running through those doors in less than five minutes, okay? I'm coming I promise!”

 

“Troy-”

 

He cuts her short and shoves his phone back in his pocket, praying she doesn't get more mad than she already is. Rounding the corner of the entrance to his apartment building he breaks out into a full sprint, desperately trying to tie his tie so it doesn't fly off. He checks his watch again while waiting for the crosswalk sign to change, '7:41'. He silently prays again, this time that Nina is already standing outside waiting for him once the sign finally changes.

 

Then, just up the street he spots her standing outside the store with two big paper bags full of flowers.

 

“Nina!” Troy waves his arms and calls out to her.

 

She whips around and makes a surprised noise, seeing Troy running. She then quickly looks both ways before jogging across the street, just in time to hand him the bags without breaking his stride.

 

“Good luck!” She calls after him, and he immediately sees why. Further up the sidewalk, Kelsi is already waiting for him outside the community center, arms folded.

 

As he nears the entrance, Kelsi holds the door open for him, shaking her head.

 

“S-see! What did I tell you? Less – ah – less than five minutes!” Troy pants, leaning on his knees trying to catch his breath.

 

“You're just lucky you aren't the only one who's late today.” Kelsey calls over some other employees to help with the flowers.

 

“Go clean yourself up in the bathroom and run the hand dryer on your pits so you don't get stains, I'll take your bag.”

 

Troy finally straightens himself up.

 

“Kelsi, I-”

 

“We'll talk later, just go.”

 

She pulls the bag off his back and pushes him towards the bathroom before slinging it over her own shoulder and grabbing an armful of flowers. Troy hesitates, debating whether he should stay and help anyway, ultimately deciding to head to the bathroom and do what she asked.

 

Upon entering the facilities he finds Alan, his old classmate and friend through the drama department, washing his hands. He traveled to California a week after graduation with his band Bone Slack, (whenever pressed about the name, Alan only replies with some variation of “It wasn't my idea.” Troy has since vowed to uncover the mystery behind its origin. It's been over two years.), to pursue a career in music. It was comprised of a few musicians previously local to Albuquerque, Alan, and their other classmate, Elijah. A year after Troy moved to Berkeley, Alan reached out to him asking for help. At that point the band had long plateaued and only ever played at dive bars anymore, but its breaking point came once Elijah got arrested for trying to rob the pizza place they both used to work for. Shortly afterward the band split, leaving Alan in need of a job and residence. Troy put in a good word for him at the community center and let him crash on his couch till he got on his feet. He now lives a few doors down from Troy in the same building and is planning to attend Lincoln University next fall.

 

Alan looks up from the sink and raises his eyebrows at Troy through the mirror, who is now adjusting the nozzles to the hand dryers to aim at his armpits.

 

“Interesting choice of workout gear there, Balboa.”

 

Alan drys his hands before pulling out some extra paper towels for Troy, and he accepts them gratefully.

 

“Believe me, my workout this morning was unintentional.”

 

Troy dabs at his forehead and starts the dryers.

 

“Be honest, on a scale of 1 to I'm-gonna-murder-you-in-your-sleep, how mad at me is Kelsi right now? She was way too calm when I got here.”

 

“Well, I've definitely seen her angrier, but she's probably too stressed to be as angry at you as she could be. But it definitely won't help if you walk into that meeting with a crooked tie.”

 

Alan steps forward and undoes Troys sloppy handiwork, carefully re-tying it while Troy buttons up his vest. Finishing up the tie he tucks it into Troys vest, stepping away so he can check himself in the mirror.

 

“Thanks man! I still can't figure out how to get that little dent at the top, your gonna have to show me how one of these days.”

 

“Anytime, don't say I've never done anything for you.” Troy pats Alan on the shoulder as they exit the bathroom.

 

“Of course, I could never forget the man who's always been right-here-next-to-beside me.”

 

Alan rolls his eyes and playfully shoves a cackling Troy as he heads in the direction of the conference room, grumbling about how he wishes everyone would let that joke die.

 

After 20 minutes of hectic activity and preparation, the community center finally finds peace as the last few department directors and assistants trickle into the conference room, Kelsi and Troy included. They find their seats towards the middle of the long oval table, separating themselves on opposite sides of Alan, who is assistant director of musical arts and theatrical performance.

 

Next to Troy is the assistant coordinator of social media and general helper, Danielle, who scoots a fraction of an inch closer once he sits down. She's a high school senior earning college credit by interning in the morning during the week since she doesn't have classes until later in the day, as well as on the weekends.

 

She also has, like, the biggest crush on Troy ever.

 

A few moments after Kelsi and Troy take their seats the PRO of the community center, Lauren Matthews, enters and stands at the head of the table.

 

“Good morning everyone! Today has started off a little hectic, which I know is an understatement for some of you,”

 

Her eyes come to rest on Troy a fraction of a second longer than everyone else as she looks across the table. Embarrassed, he shifts his gaze to his notes as Lauren continues.

 

“But in about an hour it will have been worth it, because we will have secured the new sponsor for our community center and its first annual showcase!”

 

The room bursts into applause, a few people whooping along with it.

 

“Lets keep that energy going and recognize the staff members who came up with the idea, Kelsi Nielson, Troy Bolton and Alan Davis.”

 

The table turns to look at them as they smile and continue clapping, Danielle nudges Troy with her shoulder and whispers congratulations to him. Troy thanks her and he and Alan nod politely to everyone, Kelsi grins at them from ear to ear excitedly and wrings her hands underneath the table. The room finally settles and attention returns to Lauren.

 

“Now, as you all know, the Berkeley and Oakland areas have been expanding, and with that expansion comes new businesses and opportunities, especially for us. Specifically, the Evans Corporation, which has been wildly successful in its home state, New Mexico.”

 

Troy's eyes widen in shock and turn to Kelsi, who turns to look at him at the same time, equally surprised.

 

“Mr. Evans has decided to expand his reach across the US, beginning by opening 10 new locations of his Lava Springs Resort & Golf Club, two of which will be right here in Cali, one in Beverley Hills and the other in Oakland.”

 

As Lauren continues, Troy quietly flips a page of his notes to the blank side and writes without looking down, then discreetly slides the page towards Alan and Kelsi.

 

_Did you two know about this??_

 

Kelsi quickly reaches across Alan to scribble a reply.

 

_ NO. _

 

Troy and Kelsi share a confused look before slowly turning to look at Alan, who is very deliberately focusing on what Lauren is saying. The two silently express their exasperation before turning back to Laura, who is moving towards the door.

 

“And now without further ado, the Operations Officer of the west coast Lava Springs locations, our new friend Nicholas Fulton!”

 

Lauren and her assistant open the wooden double doors, and in walks one of the most handsome men Troy has ever seen in his life, which is significant considering he once met David Beckham during a brief internship he had in San Francisco. Nicholas had deep brown hair that looked effortlessly pushed back, a skinny tie, kind eyes and a jawline that could have belonged to an Abercrombie & Fitch model.

 

Which, coincidentally, he used to be.

 

A few years before Troy and his classmates went to work at Lava Springs, Mr. Fulton became fearful that his son might not be able to support himself with such an unstable job and that modeling wouldn't be good for his future despite his success in the industry. So, he pulled Nicholas from his budding modeling career to shadow him at Lava Springs and eventually work his way up at the resort. His casual charm and striking good looks meant he quickly became popular at the resort with staff and members alike. His private golf lesson schedule was always booked months in advance, even then he was less busy than when he worked in the spa. It would've been one thing if he was just some good looks and a smile, but Nicholas was smart, well traveled and spoke several languages thanks to his success in modeling, along with natural business instinct from his father.

 

It was gross how much potential he had, really.

 

Mrs. Evans, being so rooted in the daily hustle and gossip at Lava Springs, inevitably caught wind of Nicholas' popularity and invited him and his father to dinner with the whole Evans family. Mr. Evans of course immediately wanted to take him under his wing, Sharpay of course encouraged her father since she very obviously wanted to jump the young man's bones, but it was Ryan's piano skills that caught his attention and led him to accept Mr. Evans offer. He begged Ryan, who much less obviously also had a crush on Nicholas, to give him piano lessons, but for awhile he refused. Eventually Ryan caved and agreed to teach him in exchange for french lessons.

 

Years later after the Wildcats had graduated, Mr. Fulton was promoted to COO of the Lava Springs company and placed his son in his old job at the original location. Then once the expansion was announced, Nicholas was first on the list to oversee the west coast section thanks to his long and varied list of contacts and friends.

 

Meanwhile, Troy already wanted to punch him in the face.

 

Nicholas flashes his ten-thousand dollar smile at everyone before taking a seat next to Lauren at the head of the table.

 

“Well, first I have to apologize for keeping you guys waiting, there were some last minute things I needed to take care of this morning but regardless, thank you all so much for having me today, I really do appreciate it. This community center is absolutely beautiful.”

 

Lauren smiles at him.

 

“Oh its no trouble at all, thank you for working with us! Everyone is very excited to get the ball rolling. Now I'm sure you all have questions and comments for Mr. Fulton, so now is the time to make yourself and your department heard, then we'll have final words and hopefully get everyone out of here before 9:30.”

 

A few hands go up around the table, and Nicholas calls on a girl around Troys age with bright blond hair that fades into a bubblegum pink at her shoulders.

 

“Hi Mr. Fulton, my name is Faye Collins and I'm co-director of art & digital design, I was just wondering if the staff here or community members will be offered any special deals or benefits from Lava Springs?”

 

“Its nice to meet you Faye! And gosh, am I already looking _that_ old? Mr. Fulton is my father, please, call me Nick.”

 

Faye and a few others giggle at Nick's comment and Troy has to stop himself from openly rolling his eyes, the guy barely looks to be out of his twenties.

 

Alan leans back to whisper to Troy.

 

“I'm pretty sure I just threw up in my mouth.”

 

“What was that? I can't hear you over the fact that this is your fault.” Troy whispers back.

 

Alan sighs and sinks down into his chair.

 

* * *

 

Later that morning, Troy is in his office enjoying a sandwich from a place across the street while fiddling with some of the fonts on the showcase programs. In another tab he has an image search of Nick up from earlier when he wanted to confirm his suspicion that this guy was too good looking. Ricky, one of the choreographers in the dance department, now owes him $10.

 

He's flipping back and forth between two fonts when there's a knock at his door.

 

“Come in, unless your Alan, then I'm not here. Leave a message. BEEP.”

 

The door opens and in walks Kelsi, who shakes her head and closes the door behind herself before sitting in front of Troy, folding her arms.

 

“Hey! Just the person I wanted to see – have you talked to Alan yet? Danielle insisted on taking three thousand photos me and Clark Kent after the meeting so the little traitor slipped right by me.”

 

Kelsi rolls her eyes. “He claims he met Nick a long time ago when he was still in his band. He happened to be at one of their shows and liked the music so they became fast friends, told Alan if he ever needed anything to let him know.”

 

“And now here we are.” Troy huffs in annoyance. “You know that guy even smells like the Calvin Klein ad he looks like he walked out of? Its honestly offensive at some point to be that perfect.”

 

“Aww c'mon Troy you're giving him too much credit. He brushes his teeth, puts on his designer pants one leg at a time and shows up late for important meetings just like the rest of us. Oh wait, that last one might just be you.”

 

Troy sighs and stops for a moment, then dramatically leans back in his chair and squeezes his eyes shut, holding his sandwich up to pretend defend himself.

 

“Alright, go ahead and yell, do your worst. I deserve it.” He quickly takes another bite of his sandwich then holds it back up in front of him.

 

“You know what I think of sometimes when I see you, Troy?” Kelsi asks.

 

“What a sorry disappointment I am?” Troy replies through mouth full of sandwich.

 

“I think of your father, and how proud he must be of you.”

 

Troy lowers his sandwich and pouts, a pang of guilt spreading through his gut. She only starts off like this when she's truly tired of his shit.

 

“I feel a guilt trip coming on.”

 

Kelsi continues. “His one and only son out following his dreams, making a name for himself all over again in this new town, leaving your mark on young and impressionable minds, truly making a difference. Most likely surpassing his hopes for you.”

 

“Laying it on thick I see, I always knew you were secretly ruthless.”

 

Kelsi shakes her head again. “I wonder what he would say if he knew what you were doing now?”

 

Troy groans and rakes his hands over his face.

 

“Showing up late for work, forgetting important tasks, just barely finishing your responsibilities...”

 

“Hey,” Troy puts his sandwich down indignantly and swivels his computer screen to face Kelsi. “I'm picking out the fonts for the program right now, how is that barely finishing my responsibilities?”

 

She squints at the screen. “That font is barely legible, also I asked you to do this two weeks ago.”

 

Troy sputters briefly in an attempt to come up with an excuse before giving up and leaning his head in his hand, defeated.

 

“Continue.”

 

“Your dad brags about you on Facebook at least once a week, boasting about your projects and getting promoted to director of your department. And, he's beyond excited to come down here and see our showcase this summer. It's the cutest thing to read, honestly.”

 

Kelsi pauses for a moment and leans closer to Troy, folding her arms on his desk.

 

“Look, all I'm saying is, don't make your dad a liar. Make sure you're doing something worthy of him posting about. Okay?”

 

“God, are you also gonna remind me that ohana means family and to never forget who I am?”

 

Kelsi pointedly raises an eyebrow at Troy.

 

“Aright, alright, I hear you. I promise I'll do better, just please don't use my dad against me anymore, that was brutal.”

 

“I promise not to use him against you as long as you promise not to give me a reason to.” Kelsi holds her pinkie out to him.

 

Troy links his pinkie with hers and smiles. “Deal.”

 

Kelsi stands and swipes the sandwich from Troys desk as she heads out the door.

 

“Hey!”

 

“This sandwich is interest,” She says, taking a bite. “you'll get one back when you deserve it. Now get to work you sorry disappointment!”

 

“There it is!” Troy yells as she disappears down the hallway, then turns his computer screen back toward himself. He knows Kelsi is right that he needs to get his act together, but its been hard to be without Gabriella for so long.

 

She's usually the one to bring him back to center and help him stay focused, but they didn't exactly leave off on the best terms last time they were together, a simple disagreement about future plans ended with her telling Troy that she needed some space and time to think, that maybe they should take a break.

 

That was almost six months ago.

 

But Troy had faith that she'd eventually let him back in, they've been through this kind of thing before plenty of times, this time isn't much different. She'll come to her senses and everything will go back to the way it was. As always.

 

Grumbling, he opens the drop down menu and goes back to searching for a font.

 

“Man... I really wanted that sandwich too.”

 

 


	2. Famous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOW u guys rock thank u so much for reading this AND COMMENTING im crying????? sORRY this chapter took so long cosplay kidnapped my time for a good few weeks BUT IM BACK AND IM BETTER sooo! :) chapters will still probably take awhile to write but not NEARLY as long trust and believe im not gonna abandon this fic lmao.
> 
> This chapter was unexpectedly emotional??? like i knew it was gonna be a little emotional but i straight up almost cried writing some of it? probably bc it was so #relatable BUT not as exposition-ey as i feared it would be! (hopefully yall agree lmao)
> 
> Ok two more things: 1. should i add a cast list to each chapter? so you can have a face/voice in mind for each OC? or would you rather just make up your own shit? 
> 
> 2\. in the part where lance mocks zeke, he is most definitely emulating the spongebob meme.
> 
> that is all. ENJOY.

Somewhere on 53rd street in busy midtown Manhattan, the Broadway Theater hums with endless activity.

Ryan hasn't been off his feet since they hit the floor that morning at an unreasonable time (at the bleached asshole of dawn, as he so eloquently put it), hurrying around his charming single bedroom as he danced between phone calls, emails, something that could pass for breakfast and trying to find something comfortable he could run and perform in all day without sacrificing style. 

Its only when he first arrives at the theater that he has a moment of peace, once he's rolled out his mat and flowed through his daily yoga sequence a few times in his dressing room. Then, promptly at 8:30, there's three sharp knocks at his door before Sharpay barges straight in without waiting for an answer, laptop balanced expertly on her forearm as she rattles off the days agenda.

Then the real chaos begins.

 

Currently he's pretending to not hear his sister argue with the props manager outside the door while he oversees and approves the final costume fittings for his show. The designer is helping Ryan's co-star into one of her main looks - a modern fitted pantsuit in an orange sherbet color with red piping.

Ryan stares in awe through the wall length mirror. “Deneen... you have truly outdone yourself, Mel looks absolutely stunning!” 

Melanie struts back and forth across the room, punctuating her words by pausing every few steps to strike a pose.

“I... absolutely... agree! This is the first time I've looked like an actual adult instead of a 16 year old pretending to be one.” 

She fake sniffles and pretends to wipe away tears.

“My mom would be so happy.” 

Deneen chuckles as she takes a photo. “Maybe one less trip to Forever 21 per week would help you look less like a teenager.” 

“Honestly Deneen... you're not wrong, its really becoming an issue.” Melanie snickers, unable to act offended.

“Oh! Ryan, you'll never guess what arrived yesterday eveningg.” Deneen sing-songs as she shuffles through the rack against the wall before pulling out a black suit bag and squealing. Ryan gently gasps and lays a hand over his heart.

“The final opening number suit?”

“The final opening number suit!” 

Ryan sighs deeply looks up at the ceiling to prepare himself, holding his hand out to Melanie who immediately grabs it excitedly. He'd been waiting for this day for what felt like forever since they had to keep making changes to it to make it perfectly tailored without inhibiting his ability to dance. It took just at 15 times to get it right.

He gives Deneen a nod signaling that hes ready.

“Open it.”

 

She unzips the bag and reveals the suit - a perfectly crisp, snow white, fine glitter jacket with tails that almost touch the floor and matching pants hemmed to stop just above Ryan's ankles. The button down underneath is the same icy white with an almost indiscernible floral print that can only be seen in direct light. Included is a bow tie that's a blush colored velvet with matching satin gloves, a white straight cane and a white top hat with a silky ribbon in the same color as the gloves.

Ryan feels as though he might actually cry.

But before he can so much as touch the suit, Sharpay enters the room in a huff.

“Good news, the piano situation has been handled thanks to my expert negotiation skills and some aptly placed threats on careers, you're welcome. Oh, is that the opening number suit? Its so cute!”

“It is! All our hard work has finally paid off, I can't wait to finally try it on-” 

Ryan continues to gush over the suit when Sharpays phone dings, temporarily stealing her focus. She quickly taps out a response before cutting him off.

“Yeah that's great, listen you have a phone interview with the Times at 12:30 so you need to be done with the dancers sooner than usual. I called them in early so you can be done on time, they're waiting for you on the stage now. Your assistant choreographer will take over once you leave.”

“But-”

She gives Ryan an exasperated look and he sighs before thanking Deneen and leaving the room behind Sharpay. Just before Ryan opens the door to the stage, Sharpay grabs his arm to stop him.

“One more thing, right after your interview there's going to be a meeting with the shows marketing and PR team just to tie up some loose ends, then a full run through with final edits afterward.”

 

Ryan rolls his eyes. “Great. I always love seeing Jacob when I'm actually having a good day.”

“I know you do, which is why I'm extending your lunch through the meeting so that you and Deneen can play dress-up for awhile. I can handle the wolf pack on my own.”

Ryan's face lights up before wrapping his sister in a bear hug, which she only allowed for a few seconds because he was messing up her new long bob haircut. 

“Love you sis.”

“Love you too brother, break a leg!” Sharpay calls as the sound of her heels disappear down the hall.  
* * *

“AND FIVE-SIX YOU'RE SO MONEY! YOU'RE SO MONEY!” Ryan yell-sings the song as he claps out the beat. The dancers hit their marks with a sharpness and skill that Ryan has always admired about the professionals, they almost make his job too easy, which in turn challenges him to step up his creativity and difficulty.

At the last chorus of the song, Ryan turns to face the audience and performs the rest of the song with everyone else, hitting his final pose perfectly. After the three second hold he returns to a normal standing position, gazing out at the empty seats with a suddenly full heart. Having his own show has been a dream of his since his debut in 1st grade as the lead in Jack and the Beanstalk. When Sharpay went on and on about wanting it all that day during their senior year, he never thought any of it would actually happen. Yet here he is, two years out from his full ride to Juliard, lucky enough to be one month out from the opening of his show thanks to his own hard work and his sisters tenacity.

The realization that his dreams were quite literally coming true overwhelms him, and a sob escapes before he can think to stop it. One of the dancers, June, comes and wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Aww Ryan, whats wrong? You okay bud?” 

Concerned, the group circles around the two of them to make sure he's okay.

 

“No I'm just – I'm not upset its just that everything is so - ” Ryan gestures to around them to try and communicate his feelings.

“Ohh I get you. You just need a hug, huh? A big 'ole hug - c'mon everyone get in on this, Ry needs some lovin'.” June pulls Ryan into his chest as everyone moves in at once for a big group hug.

“Haha, you guys are the best, seriously. Thank you for smushing me with your love.”

Then suddenly from the front row of seats, Do You Love Me by The Contours blares from Ryans phone. He tells everyone to take five before rushing off stage to check his device. He retrieves it from his bag and sees “Chad DAMNforth♥” written across the screen and he can't help but grin as he answers, waving off hoots and whistles from the dancers.

“G'mornin babe.” Ryan says as he takes a seat in the third row.

“Morning love, how are things going so far today?” Chads voice is still groggy like he just woke up, which Ryan assumes is the case since he's never up before noon without a reason to be. Ryan tells him about the new costumes and about his interview later that day. He can practically hear Chad sit up in his bed.

“What!? Times as in the 'New York Times' Times??” 

“The one and only.” Ryan replys shyly, watching June help another dancer on a part of the dance.

Chad makes an excited noise. “Oh my god, Ryan! This is so dope, you have to get like 30 copies of the paper when it comes out. Or, no – I'll order a bunch offline for me and my parents and then, yeah you get a bunch for your family and then whatevers left we'll frame and hang up in our house.”  
Ryan shakes his head, amused. “That's a bit much, don't you think? Theres gonna be like... 20 copies of the article up on the walls.” 

“So what, are you kidding? I'll hang up 200 copies of the article. I'm so proud of you, you talented broadway star. You've been working on this for so damn long, I dont remeber a time when you weren't. My boyfriends dreams are finally coming true? You bet I'll hang up 200 copies. Hell, I'll get the thing tattooed.”

“Okay, I love and appreciate you so much but please, don't get it tattooed. What are you gonna do five articles from now? That'd be at least 30% of your body! I like tattoos but we gotta draw the line somewhere, no pun intended”

Chad laughs and thinks for a moment before replying.

“Uh, theres a quote thats like... how does it...Oh! 'In love there are two things – bodies and words' so I'm just combining the two.”

Ryan hums. “Wow, someone actually retained something from a lit class! Now its my turn to be proud.”

Chad thanks him and promises himself that at some point he'd tell Ryan that Zeke told him that quote one day when he made edibles for the first time. 

“You're welco – ITS ONE-TWO-STEP-KICK AROOOUND THREE-FOUR. YEAH, YEAH YOU GOT IT – sorry Chad, I didn't mean to yell in your ear.”

“What?”

“I said sorry for yelling.”

“Huh?”

“Chadwick Isadore.” 

Chad barks out a laugh. “Oh god, I can't wait to see your 'im gonna kill you' face in person again.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and smiles.

“I bet you can't. What day are you booked for? If you get here early you can stay with me until opening night.”

 

Radio silence.

 

“Hello? Earth to Chad? Are you gonna chew cereal in my ear and pretend the line is breaking up again?”

“... No.” He says, sounding meek.

Ryans stomach twists in a way he doesn't like, especially not while talking to Chad.  
“Cee, if you forgot to book your flight, it's no problem. There's still almost a month until the show, I just don't want you to wait too long and spend an arm and a leg on a ticket... I'm not mad if that's what you're worried about.”

Chad is quiet for another stretch of time, Ryan is just about to speak again when he finally replies.

“No I uh, I didn't forget. I just -” He nervously clears his throat. “- I haven't gotten it cleared with the coach yet. You know we have a big game the day after opening and I won't be back in time so I-I'm trying to find someone to sub for me, you know?”

Ryan's stomach churns harder.

“No, I apparently don't know because it sounds like a fucking basketball game is taking precidence over your partners opening show on broadway, so please enlighten me.”

“It's not taking precidence! I swear, I'm just trying to find the right person – or, no – 'cause we're always so caught up in playing during practice. And the other players are always talking about dumb stuff after so – so I -” Chad splutters as he panics.

“You better start making some sense and spit it out before I hang up on you Chad.” Ryan is eerily quiet when he speaks, eyes filled and threatening to spill over

“The team, my coach, don't know. About us.”

Ryan drops his hand away from his ear and rakes the other over his face, sighing deeply. Chad has never been particularly open about his relationships. Even when he was with Taylor, nobody in their friend group except Gabriella knew that they had started dating until almost halfway through their junior year when they showed up together to one of Troys parties. 

Once everyone found out, people either speculated that they'd be the next Barack and Michelle or wondered how their relationship even worked considering how Type A they both are. Being co-captains of their respective teams on top of homework and extra curriculars meant they most likely had little to no time for each other on a regular basis.

Then the infamous baseball game of that summer caused even more rumors to spread underneath the surface at school during senior year, causing Chad to hyperfocus on college and life beyond East High in order to ignore the gossip. He also began pulling away from Taylor emotionally, figuring once she heard the rumors, being the independent spirit she is, she'd just dump anyways. So, he asked her to prom in one final flourish as his kind of last hurrah before what he thought would be the downfall of his personal life. 

Taylors razor sharp perception of course caused her to catch on to this, so she went to Chads house to confront him about it. After four hours and a long, teary conversation, Chad had spilled the beans about his feelings for Ryan (which, duh, Taylor knew because she had eyes). He'd been so caught up in his head about what everyone would think of him that he forgot how much her disposition had softened since sophmore year.

Taylors understanding helped give Chad the courage to share how he felt with his friends, including Ryan (eventually), but he still finds it difficult to open up to people. 

 

“Ryan? Ryan are you still there? Please, I'm sorry, I'll figure something out I promise.”

“Yeah? Call me back when you do.” Ryan says before hanging up the phone. He's about to chuck it in his bag when he recieves a text.

12:10pm ♪Former Womb-Mate♫

your assistant is here  
come meet me in your dressing room to prep for the interview  
please

 

He sighs and shoves his phone in his pocket before slinging his bag over his shoulder, giving the dancers well wishes as he crosses the stage and heads behind the curtain towards the door. He's just about to turn the handle when the door opens just enough for Charles to slip through, who then nearly jumps out of his skin upon seeing Ryan.

“FFFFFFFFohhmygod! Why the hell are you standing in front of the door like a creep??” 

Ryan snorts.

“Hey, its not my fault that you decided to get here as soon as I started working on my Jason impression. I'm not responsible for any heart attacks caused by the making of this show. It's in your contract.” 

Charles sucks his teeth.

“Damn, I knew I should have had someone else other than Doug read that thing. But on a more serious note, are you alright man? Your eyes are kinda red and puffy.”

“Hold on, I'm still stuck on the fact that you have your dog read over your contracts before you sign them.”

“C'mon, dude.”

Ryan sighs and looks at the floor, wondering whether its more worth it to ugly cry right before his interview or to lie to Charles. He decides to meet himself in the middle by telling him the half-truth now and filling in the rest another time.

“I'm just... frustrated and overwhelmed at the moment. Theres been so much going on all at once on and off the stage, and I needed a minute to catch my breath, y'know?”

Charles nods, understanding.

 

“I feel you. Just try to keep taking moments for yourself. Don't let all the stress and worry make you forget that all of this,” he says, gesturing around the theater, “is your actual dream coming true! Always remember that, Ry. Never lose perspective.”

It takes everything in Ryan to keep himself from crying all over again. Genuinely good hearted people tend to be few and far between in this career, hell even in life, but Ryan feels he somehow has a knack for always finding them.

 

“Thank you Dr. Chuck, I really do appreciate it. Now go dance before you get me started all over again!”

The two of them share a laugh and Charles turns to jog onto the stage as Ryan disappears down the hall.

* * *

“Cause I'm rollin', rollin', rollin' out some pastaaa!” Zeke sings as he works on perfecting his recipe for his semester final: his grandmothers famous lasagna. He's about to start cutting mid-belt when he realizes he didn't double check the thickness of dough.

“Sous chef! Remind me please, is the thickness supposed to be 1/4th of an inch or 1/8th of an inch?”

He squats down so that the counter is at eye level to get a good look. Chad, who's been staring blankly at the recipe since he got off the phone with Ryan, doesn't hear him.

“Chad? Sometime this century would be nice.”

No answer.

Zeke sighs and walks over to where Chad is sitting at the breakfast bar and takes the recipe.

“No worries, I'll check myself. Not like I have a sous chef or anything. 1/8th of an inch, got it.”

Chad finally snaps out of his stupor when Zeke puts the recipe back down.

“What? Sorry man, where are we?” Chad scans the paper, trying to find his place.

“I don't know about you, but I'm trying to finish this pasta while the sauce cooks down. Whats up with you, bro? You've been acting hella weird since you got off the phone with Ryan. Did he yell at you for almost failing your calc quiz again or what?”

“No. He got angry at me for what I did, and didn't do, then basically hung up on me.”

Zeke stops mid slice to turn and look at Chad.

 

“What did you do? I've never seen him legitimately mad like, ever.”

Their roommate, Lance, decides now is the perfect time to emerge from his room.

“Probably some dumb shit, Chad stays doing something stupid.”

Zeke rolls his eyes.  
“Who was even talking to you, Lance? You stay saying some stupid shit. And can you please use a damn cup! Other people drink that juice too.” He says, snatching the carton away from Lances mouth.

“Other people drink that juice too.” Lance mockingly replies.

“Lance is right though, I did do something stupid.” Chad says, dejected. 

“See? What did I just say!” Lance exclaims.

“Just say it before I have to kick Lancelot in the head.” Zeke says, wiping down the counter.

Chad takes a deep breath before continuing.

 

“I haven't told the team yet.”

Zeke frowns. “About what? Having to miss the game?”

“About Ryan.”

The three of them are quiet for a beat. Lance is the first to speak up.

“I mean... if you haven't at this point there must be a reason why, right? For me, only the coach and a few of my buddies on the soccer team know I'm bi. The other guys are dumbasses at best so its not anything they need to know as far as I'm concerned. What's the situation on the basketball team?”

Zeke shrugs. “Its kind of up in the air. I've heard some guys say some questionable shit but nothing glaringly bad.”

“I just feel so fucking stuck because I don't want to be treated differently by the team, or have everyone start acting fucking weird in the locker room, or talk about Zeke for living with me. But I don't want Ryan to think I'm ashamed of him – of us – because I'm not I just...” Chads voice breaks as he chokes back a sob.

In a flash Zeke is around the bar and pulling Chad into a hug, Lance is right behind him with one supportive hand on his shoulder and the other going back and forth across the top of his back. 

None of them are sure how long they stood together like this, doing their best to keep Chads silent tears from shaking him to pieces, but they don't pull apart until his breathing levels out.

Chad almost whispers. “T-thank you guys.” 

“Of course, Chad. I've known you since the 2nd grade. I love you, man.” Zeke ruffles Chads hair.

“Yeah, anytime you need to talk or cry or anything, I'm here. I've only known you guys for the past 3 years but you feel like the big brothers I never had. I know I talk a lot of shit, but that's all it is. I care about you. We care about you.”

Chad and Lance share a smile and Zeke pulls them both in for a group hug.

“Alright, now what?” Lance asks, taking a seat next to Chad at the bar.

“Now,” Zeke begins, hurrying around the kitchen to turn things off and put things away, “Chad and I are gonna get ready to go to practice, and he's gonna decide whether or not he's gonna hold a team meeting.”

“I am?” 

Zeke shrugs as he puts the pasta sauce in the fridge and heads toward his room.

“Captains business, captains call.”

 

Chads stomach swims as he and Zeke walk across the campus towards the gym. He had to call the coach to tell the team to wait before getting changed three different times because he kept hanging up as soon as the line started ringing. He thought he might vomit right before they left but all he could manage was some dry heaving over the sink. Zeke then gave him a bottle of water and told him his nerves are just getting the best of him.

At this point Chad is prays to throw up just so this awful feeling will go away.

Once they reach the locker room door Chad stops dead in his tracks and leans over on his knees.

“I think I'm actually gonna puke this time.”

Zeke sighs and shakes his head. “Dude, I'm not trying to invalidate your feelings or anything but I think you're possibly, maybe being, like, the slightest little bit dramatic.”

Chad looks over at him and is about to say something smart, but thinks better of it. He's probably right. 

But then why is it so hot all of the sudden?

Chad paces back and forth as he pulls his hair up into a bun at the crown of his head.

“Alright Chad, lets go get it over with.” Zeke reaches for the door handle.

“WAIT!” 

They freeze. Zeke looks at Chad, confused.

“What?”

“I was giving my body one last chance to spontaneously com-bust, oh well. Lets go.”

Zeke rolls his eyes and opens the door, letting Chad through first.

 

When the two of them enter, the locker room is humming with chatter. Several people are on their phone, a group is watching two teammates attempt to do a double bottle flip trick, and the coach is leaning against his office door, chatting to the assistant coach quietly. The sound of the door closing behind them gets his attention, and he yells for everyone to settle down.

“Alright folks, lets bring it down. Your captain has something he wants to say to everyone before we start practice today. Danforth, the floor is yours.”

Chads mouth immediately goes dry once all eyes settle on him. He shoves his suddenly clammy hands into his pockets and rocks side to side a few times, clearing his throat. Zeke gives him a supportive pat on the back, stepping closer to his side.

“Oh god, this is taking to long. Dude, if your dying, just spit it out so I can go back to my dorm and cry for the rest of the night.” A teammate, Oscar, blurts out.

The room erupts in laughter, putting Chad a little more at ease. He smooths his hands over his hair and asks someone to pass him a ball. Frank tosses him the ball he had his foot resting on.

Chad dribbles a few times before beginning.

“Well, let me get the biggest worry out of the way first, I'm not dying guys.”

More laughter. Oscar sighs dramatically and clutches his heart.

“No, I called for a meeting to formally ask all of you if we may, and help you guys decide, who's gonna replace Zeke and I in the championship game at the end of the month.”

Immediate uproar ensues.

“What do you mean replace?” Someone yells.

“You can't just not show up for the championship, you two built this team” Another says.

The questioning continues for another few seconds before the coach quiets everyone again.

Chad continues.

“Mr. Anderson, sir, we haven't missed or been late for a practice since we joined the team freshmen year. We haven't been in trouble on or off campus, we have good grades, and are completely dedicated to this team.”

Mr. Anderson considers this for a moment before responding.

“This is all true. The two of you have had an impressive basketball career, on this team and your high school team. You've done the Wildcat name proud. With that said, I'm going to have to agree with your teammates concerns. You all have been instrumental in making this team, this family, a well oiled machine. Whats so important that both of you have to miss one of the most important games of the year?”

 

Chads heart races as he stares down at the ball hes clutching. Zeke squeezes his shoulder.

 

“Because...” Chad falters, takes a deep breath, starts again.

“Because my... my boyfriend Ryan has been supporting my basketball career every step of the way since we got together. Taking tests early, missing workshops, writing and re-writing on planes, sacrificing time and sleep, to fly clear across the country for a night or two to see me play. Making the biggest effort that I never could have asked for. And now he's making his dreams come true, he wrote and choreographed an entire musical and now its being produced and opening night is the night of the game. I'm sorry, but there's no way I can't be there, not after everything hes done for me.”

The room is completely silent. Chad feels like he might pass out.

Mr. Anderson breaks the silence first. 

“And you, Mr. Baylor?”

“I've been close with Ryan and his sister since sophomore year of high school,” Zeke begins. Chad internally snorts.

“He's one of my closest friends. Skipping out on him would feel like skipping out on family.”

 

More silence.

 

Chad is about to speak when one of their bigger teammates, Damien, stands from his seat on the bench. 

“Listen, I don't care what anyone else is thinking right now, but that was brave as fuck. I had mad respect for you before, but now its times ten. Go support your boyfriend, its not often you find someone like that. Believe me, I know.” 

There are a few chuckles here and there at that. Oscar picks up after Damien.

“Yeah man, that shit could not have been easy. I definitely would have shit my pants trying to tell everyone like that.”

 

Even Mr. Anderson has to laugh at that one.

 

“Honestly, I just wanna say thank you for even trusting us enough with this part of your life. Like I deadass feel like we're all like, a little closer now.” Franklin chips in.

There are murmurs of agreement all around the room. Chad finally feels like he can breathe again.

 

Mr. Anderson claps once and walks over to Chad. 

 

“Well, first off I want to say that I'm proud of you son. We all are, I think they've made that clear. But I do have one stipulation for allowing you to go.”

“Sure, anything.” Chad says. He thinks about it, then amends his statement. “Anything, within reason.”

He chuckles. “All I ask is that you bring me back a signed playbill that I can frame in my house to make my theater-obsessed daughter jealous once it gets Tonys out the wazoo.”

Everyone cheers and agrees, along with Chad, who shakes on the proposition.

“Alright gentlemen, lets go play some ball! Chad, take it away.” Mr. Anderson yells, blowing the whistle. 

Chad kicks his gym bag underneath a bench before starting the chant.

“ALRIGHT NOW WHAT TEAM?”

“WILDCATS!”

“WHAT TEAM?”

“WILDCATS!”

“WHAT TEAM?”

“WILDCATS!”

“WILDCATS!!” 

“GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!”


End file.
